


won't highway-walk forever

by sandyk



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Harm to Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think we should have sex because I'm not doing very well at keeping myself alive?" Marty will take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	won't highway-walk forever

**Author's Note:**

> notes: not mine, no profit garnered. Title from the Joan as Police Woman song "the ride." I don't believe Deeks was telling the truth in Bounty when he said he had that conversation with his father or when he said he'd never lived outside Los Angeles. Spoilers for the movie Serenity. Thanks to jf and sfa.

People who are not what you expect can get you killed. He and Kensi thought the assholes they were after were smart guys, so they walked in the room, checking and clearing like these idiots had a brain in their head. Which they didn't, so they did stupid things like hide under tables and come out and stab you in the leg and conk you on the head.

He wonders whose fault was it, did he fuck up? Cause that's the kind of thing that keeps you awake if something bad happens. But so far the bad happening is happening to him, he is definitely hurting. He should add painfully to everything. Marty inhales painfully. Marty exhales painfully. Marty thinks the pain is coming more from his head than his leg, painfully. He listens, painfully. He hears Kensi repeating his name. She might have been doing that for a while.

"Deeks, tell me you're awake." Her voice sounds desperate, way more than Marty expects from the Ice Queen of Disdain. "Deeks."

"I'm good, sugarplum," he says. He's dizzy and aching, painfully. "I just need to know, Kensi, you have to tell me something."

"What?" There's that desperation again. It's so unlike the Kensi he's known so far. Surely she's not worried about him.

"I'm bleeding from the head, I know, but, just tell me straight, are they going to have shave my head? I am not someone who can pull off the shaved head. I am no Sam. Sam pulls it off." He smiles, painfully. All his teeth are in place. He's almost ready to open his eyes.

Kensi exhales loudly. "Stop being an ass," she says. She sounds way less desperate, so mission accomplished. "How are you, really? We have to get out of here."

He opens his eyes. They are in a tiny basement room, both tied to their own pole. He makes the lewd remark in his head and chuckles, painfully. Feels like plastic strap around his wrists and the pole, and not handcuffs, so that is good. He's tied pretty tight. It is painful to tug on his hands.

"I have a concussion, for sure," he says. "Pretty mild. I think once we get free I can put weight on the leg. What's your status?" Trying to work his hands out sends a wrench of pain through his shoulder and he really really really has to vomit. He just loves concussions. It's a way too familiar feeling. He breathes deeply and tried to remember his first concussion. First he remembers, he thinks. He was six. He's going to be like one of those boxers, he just knows it. He'll end up like Muhammad Ali.

"Did you just say boxers?" Kensi's worried tone is back. "Why are you talking about underwear?"

"It's the concussion," he says. "It's boxer briefs actually, wanna see? Okay, I get it. Not the right time. Later. And how are you?"

"I'm fine," she says. She's back to sounding annoyed with him. He relishes the normalcy of it. Even if normal is defined by all of four, five cases. However many it's been. Not many, he thinks, painfully.

"You're saying you're fine because you won't admit you're injured, or you're actually okay to go?"

"I'm completely uninjured except for the cuts on my hands from trying to get out of this," she says. She sounds this time like her jaw is very clenched. "Do you know you're blacking out every few minutes?"

"Really?" He breathes out and keeps trying to work his hands out. He feels like he's made progress, painfully.

"Yes," she says. "How's the getting your hands out going?"

"Painfully," he says. "Hey, how come I'm stabbed and concussed and you're not injured at all?"

"You were unconscious and bleeding and they had a gun on you," she says.

"You didn't want them to kill me?" He knows he sounds sad and pathetic.

"I don't want to watch my partner die," she says. The tone of her voice sounds like she's about to cry or something worse. He hates the sound of that.

"That was very nice of you," he says.

"It wasn't personal," she says. That's the Kensi he knows.

"Okay, good," he says. "Look, I'm working on this, but we need to talk, or I need to talk."

"You always need to talk," she says. He can see her boots, a little of her jeans. He could move his head to try to see more of her but everything is painful, he's going to throw up and he'd prefer not to lose even more of his dignity in front of her.

"It's just easier to be in this much pain and wiggle my hands out by shedding a pound of skin one twist at a time, it would be easier if I could think of something else. So, I'm going to tell you a story about my, my mother and then you are going to tell me one. while I do this, okay?"

"My mother?" She sounds dubious.

"If that's okay, I mean. You do have, you remember you mom?" Fuck, maybe Kensi's mom had died in childbirth, that's something that still happens, he's pretty sure.

"Yeah, of course I do," she says. "You first. Talk and shred."

He slowly turns his hands, painfully, and says, "So my mom used to knit when I was a kid." Until his dad broke her wrist when Marty was 8. Another concussion for Marty. "But, when I started looking at colleges, she took up knitting again. With a scary fervor. I'd decided to get out of LA, spread my wings and she was convinced I was going to freeze to death even if I was just at Berkeley. Kinda nuts, frankly." 

"Sounds sweet," Kensi says. "Do you still have, like, scarves and stuff?"

"Scarves, sweaters, gloves, socks, mittens, hats, blankets. I got a free ride at this college in Iowa, Grinnell which my mother assumed was akin to the Artic judging by her knitting. Which, as a kid from Los Angeles, it really was. And she kept that up every single year I was in college. I am surprised she did not try to knit my graduation robes," he says, laughing. "Actual true story, she threatened to."

"Okay, you have to show me the mittens," Kensi says, laughing along with him.

He tries a full on wrench and blacks out as a reward. Painfully blacks out. The room spins extra fast. "Your turn," he says. He sounds awful. "Did you answer my question about having to shave my head? You can lie to me. Are they going to need to shave my head?"

"No, Deeks," she says. She sounds pretty awful, too. "You're making progress, I can see it."

"You're just being nice," he says.

"So, um, my mom." She pauses. Her mom must be dead, he thinks. The way she hesitates, like it's something she tries not to think about. That's what he does, and his mom's dead. Apparently he said the last part out loud because she says, "I'm sorry about your mom."

"Thank you," he says. "So one story. You can make it short, but I already heard about your dad, Super Marine Ranger, so."

She laughs. "He was super. Um, okay, my mom. When I was 12, puberty just kinda sprung. I mean, it felt like I woke up one morning and I was a b cup. So my mom took me to the store. I just wanted to buy plain white, beige bras and my mom, she steered towards me the pretty florals ones and bright colors. She said I was allowed to be pretty, no one would be disappointed. That was nice to hear," she says.

"Agreed," he says. He breathes heavily.

"And also, I mean, I grew up on military bases, you know, so I was 12 and I looked 16. There were a lot of real young Marines who would just look, they were, you know --"

"Nasty," Deeks says. "Boys suck."

"Yeah," she says. "I thought it was all my fault, you know. I couldn't tell my dad --"

"You were afraid he would pound the shit out of all of them," Deeks says, laughing.

"No," Kensi says. She laughs. "In retrospect, I should have. But I was more thinking, I dunno, I thought it was my fault and he'd be angry at me." Right, Marty thinks, not everyone thinks of their father as a rage-filled asshole looking for an excuse to beat someone up. He's heard that somewhere.

"But I did tell my mom, or she found out, she saw my walk of shame home from middle school. And she was so angry. She was like, it's not your fault. How people look at you, what they project on you, that is all them. She also called them assholes which I'd never heard her say. So that, that's a good memory." She exhales loudly. "Do I still need to talk?"

"Yes," he says. He's rubbed his wrist raw. He is definitely making progress but staying focused is not a walk in the park. "You pick the topic. Or I can. Uh, sex. How's that?"

"Fine," she says. "Fine. Favorite sexual position. You first."

"You first," he says. "And be very very detailed. Very."

She grumbles. It's adorable. "Okay, okay. Just because you're clearly suffering."

"And you brought it up," he says. She exhales very loudly again. He says, "You don't have to."

She says, "I know." Then she says, "Okay, favorite sexual position. Um, me on top."

"Of course," Marty says.

"Um. Okay, him lying down, possibly with one arm handcuffed to the bed --"

"Possibly?" Marty laughs. "You've done some serious research, I bet, making sure which worked better for you, handcuffed, tied with a scarf, you just holding him down --"

She makes an irritated noise. "I need both hands and he needs at least one."

"Of course," Marty says. He is definitely picturing all of it at this point.

"And that's that," she says quickly.

"So you do like to ride," Marty says.

"You look pretty close," she says. "Your hands."

"Feels like I'm bleeding," he says.

"Yup," she says. "Come on, you love to talk. Talk. You said it helped."

"I dunno, I like them all. If I had to choose, if you're making me choose, I am going to go with doggystyle, uh, me holding her hips --" he is picturing Kensi hips under his hands and it's a very nice thought. "Yeah, that's probably my favorite." He takes a deep breath and wrenches his hands free. Pain shoots through his arms up to his head, the room spins so hard he finally does throw up. Luckily his legs are spread so it's mostly on the floor. He waits for a second, which is probably more like a minute and pushes himself up against the pole.

"Deeks," Kensi says. He looks at her, finally. Her hair is a mess. He decides not to say anything about it. "I have a knife in my boot," she says. "They were too busy feeling me up to do a decent search."

"Are you okay?" He carefully walks over to her feet and kneels down. Everything hurts.

"I'm fine, Deeks," she says. Because she's used to it, he thinks. People suck. He pushes her jeans up and reaches in her boot, trying not to touch her skin. She doesn't say anything. He walks (okay, lurches) to where she's tied up and cuts off the strap. "Thank you," she says.

He stands up and starts scanning the room. "They really left our guns and phones right here. I am absolutely incredulous." He hands Kensi her gun and they both check their weapons. "They didn't even take our ammo."

"These guys are seriously stupid," Kensi says. "Now let's get the fuck out of here."

"I'll be behind you, okay?"

She looks back and he'd swear she's concerned.

XXXXX

After one night in the hospital with his concussion and blood loss and stab wound and raw bleeding fingers, they send him home. Hetty tells him he absolutely must take the day off. "Come back on Monday," she says firmly.

"People will think I'm not tough," Marty says, smiling. "They'll question my manliness."

"And that's a very good reason to aggravate your injuries and never be fully well, I'm sure." 

He nods and accepts that he has Friday off, a long weekend ahead of him.

It's noon and he's still in only his boxer-briefs, watching the Firefly marathon. He's seen every episode something like 20 times but that makes it perfect to watch when he keeps falling asleep.

Someone knocks on the door. Noon on a Friday could be anybody, and Marty could be arrested for answering the door in just his underwear. He grabs the hoodie and Clippers shorts he'd used to walk Monty in the morning.

It's Kensi. In a summer dress. "What are you wearing?"

"Hi, nice to see you, too," she says. "Hetty let us go early." She's weirdly hesitant. He also think she is not wearing a bra.

"No, really, what's going on?"

"I just, I thought I would come see you. I wear dresses, by the way. All the time." She pushes past him and starts surveying his apartment. He stops himself from saying something about how he's never seen her in a cute halter dress which she is definitely not wearing a bra under. She smooths down the short skirt and he is now wondering if she's wearing underwear. This is the definition of weird.

She turns around and says, "Are you going to close the door?"

"Yes," he says. Monty briefly looks up from his doggy bed and then settles back to sleep.

She looks around and crosses her arms. She is definitely not wearing a bra. This is very very awesome along with being very very weird. She says, "So. Where's the bedroom?"

"Back, back there. Are you here for the bedroom?"

"Yes," she says. She laughs. "This might have been a bad idea."

"No, no," he says. "I mean, maybe? But let's hear the idea first before we dismiss it. Okay?"

She makes an adorable face of trepidation. "It was, you know, I thought you might be dead out in the desert, and then yesterday again and I am, I've seen, people do die doing our jobs and I actually don't want to you to die so it made me think, you know, carpe diem?"

"You think we should have sex because I'm not doing very well at keeping myself alive?" He'll take it.

"You're doing very well, you're not dead. I was just, I was really worried. And, I don't, okay, this was a bad idea." She doesn't walk to the door, though.

"I like your idea," he says. He smiles. "If you don't want to, that is also totally okay. I promise not to mention it again, seriously."

"I believe you," she says. "Okay, let's do this. I figured we'd do it twice, you know, your favorite, my favorite."

He pushes off his shorts and takes off his hoodie. "Great, great idea, follow me."

"Somehow I thought you'd be okay with this."

He gets to the bedroom and the bed first. He has the advantage of familiarity over her Daredevil sonar skills. He lies back, naked already. He has always been good at the getting naked which is even easier when you don't have to make it look good. He smiles at crazy Kensi. She undoes a button or tie or something at back of her dress, shimmies a little and the dress just slides to the floor. She does not even need to work to make it look good. She is unbelievably gorgeous naked. He does not believe how good she looks.

"Thanks," she says.

"Did I make words there? Cause, yeah. Did I?"

She smiles and smirks at the same time as she gets on the bed. "It was your face. Not much of a poker face there, Detective." She's lying on her back and she looks tense, unsure. It's a good look on some women but on Kensi he's not thrilled. Given the circumstances, he wants her relaxed and wanting, possibly begging.

"Would you like a massage?"

She bursts out laughing. "Really?"

"I took a class," he says. He's off the bed and into the bathroom and back holding a bottle of the good stuff out to her. "No credit at the community college, Massage for Lovers."

"This is massage oil," she says, still laughing. She sniffs the bottle and says, "Smells amazing."

"Specially made by hand. I was a tester." He gently gets a pillow under her head and then her feet.

"By tester, do you mean something sexual?" She is smiling as she closes her eyes.

"I wish. No, I mean, I have a friend, a very happily married friend, who has a massage therapy and reiki practice and she made this stuff herself and I got two free massages out of being one of her test bodies. The first batch wasn't as good as this one."

"And you took a class," she murmurs. He's started with her feet. She makes the sweetest sounds.

"My then girlfriend signed up both of us and I thought why not? By the time they started she had a new lover to massage so she dropped it, but I went to every class."

He's also been undercover at two massage parlors. One was a straight up pimp and drugs establishment. They caught the guys but not before Marty had to give two not-handsome-at-all guys handjobs. It's not one of his favorite undercover memories. Luckily he didn't have to put it in his report and there is no film. His second stint involved working somewhere where there were actual massage therapists with extensive training. It was just some of the workers and one of the owners who were selling drugs to some of their clients. Marty was in as an apprentice and he learned a lot. More than four classes of massage for lovers.

He's onto Kensi's thighs when she talks again. She mumbles, "You have great hands."

"I agree." He says, "You have amazing skin. And body. And hair."

She laughs a little. He skips over her fantastic ass to her lower back. She says, "hey, I like a little massage there."

"First lesson of massage of lovers is save the sex parts for last. Which is especially important when you're working on a guy, by the way."

"I'm not reciprocating," she says and grunts, in a classy way, her satisfaction with what he just did there. Everything above her lower back is a mess of knots. He takes his time.

"Oh my god," she says. "That was a really good course."

He says, "Also I have great hands and I'm extremely talented. And turn over." He rearranges the pillows for her comfort.

He starts with her head, forehead, jaw. "Now, I would argue the head is one of the sex parts but not by the strict definition of massage for lovers."

"And especially for guys," she says, laughing.

"Ha, ha," he says.

"Your wrists look pretty good," she says.

"It wasn't as bad as it looked," he says. After another twenty minutes in companionable silence only broken by Kensi's moans of happiness, he's basically done. Except for the fun parts.

Kensi sits up and says, "Sex now?"

"Uh, lie back down, Kensi. Now is where the massage gets sexy. Wait until you see what I can do with my hands and my mouth."

She blushes and settles back on the pillows. He starts with the underside of her breasts, up to her nipples and back and around again. He uses his mouth on one, hand on the other and then switches back again. She grabs at his hair and moans even louder. He's propped up on arm, mostly on top of her. She's extremely responsive. And strong. And hot. And smells incredibly good. He is definitely in love with the taste of her on his tongue. He is really looking forward to going down on her.

She pushes him down to between her legs. She's already wet and flushed. She barely lets him start before she pushes him off, saying, "Now we definitely have sex. You on your back, I'm going first."

"Absolutely," he says. "Sure, I'd love that." She ties his hand very loosely, in deference, he assumes, to his injuries.

"Now this hand," she says. She takes his free hand and puts it on her damp breast. She's sweating all over, a shiny sheen on her skin. He really also loves her breasts. A lot.

She has both hands working on herself as she hovers over him. "That is so fucking hot, you have no idea," he says.

She smiles like a smirky sexy cat and lowers herself onto him. It's the best thing ever. He pushes up, she pushes back. She leans over him, her hair on his chest, and says, "Don't come. Me first."

It is not the easiest request. She is riding him hard. He has to close his eyes because if he looks at how hot she is, sweat all over, flushed, glowing, on top of the way she feels, being inside her, he is pretty sure he will come no matter how she asks.

Finally, she comes, loudly, quivering around him. He opens his eyes to watch and is utterly lost in the happiest and best he's felt in weeks.

She gets off him, rolls to his side. They are both panting idiots for a few long minutes. "That was awesome," he says.

"You're so eloquent," she says, smiling. "You are so about to fall asleep."

"I am supposed to be sleeping and recovering today," he says. He yawns. She is already up off the bed. He turns on Firefly on the tv by the bed. "Are you coming back?"

"Yes," she says. "You rest and recover, round two is when you wake up."

He watches a little bit of the episode and hears her turn on the shower. "Oh, hey, grab a fresh towel," he mumbles. He doesn't really resent that she's acting like she owns the place, he just hasn't prepared the place for guests lately.

He opens his eyes and it's been about two hours. Judging by the episode on his tv. "Hey," he says.

"I really like this show, how have I not seen this show?" Kensi has not left. She is sitting cross-legged on the front of his bed, wearing nothing. She doesn't even turn around to talk to him.

"What were you doing Friday nights in 2002?"

She turns and looks at him, smiling. She says, "Okay, point. But I love it."

"I own the dvds and the movie, so you can watch them all. Even in order."

"Thank you," she says, lighting up.She turns the episode off and lays down next to him, on her stomach. "Can we watch them after we have sex again?"

"We could even watch them before," he says. "If you're not up for the second round, which is totally okay."

"No, you were pretty good. I want my second round." She lifts up to all fours and shakes her ass. "Like how you like it," she says, licking her lips.

"That is way hotter than it should be," he says. "Because you're being ridiculous. Also, my favorite position is something that happens after foreplay. Maybe we could even kiss."

She lowers herself down and rolls to her side. They are even facing each other. "You like kissing, huh? Something you like," she says. "Are you any good --"

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. She opens her mouth immediately. When he stops, she gasps a little. "Took your breath away," he says.

"Well, sure." She grabs his face and pulls him in for a kiss. It's as good as the first. Naked, entwined, entangled, it's his favorite makeout scene.

She smells like fruit and meadows. Which is odd. He says, "Why do you smell so good? I don't really have those kind of soaps lying around."

"You don't. I found some samples under your sink."

"Right," he says. "I forgot I had those. A friend left them. Part of her stayover kit." He hasn't thought of Jess in a while, that's a nice kick in the gut.

It's clearly written all over his face as Kensi's smile shifts from lusty to kind. "She sounds very smart," she says.

"Too smart for me," he says.

"That was a given," she says. She kisses him deeply. After a few moments, they're back in their groove. She's grinding on his leg and he can feel she's already wet. From zero to ready in 20 kisses, he really did do good the first time. He shifts so she's under him. Then he goes down all the way. He's not going to get to do this again and he wants to make her loudly come as often as he can. It's his favorite thing to watch after only one time.

She is so close, he is sure of it, but she grabs his hair and then pushes him away. "Come on," she says. "Fuck me."

"You talked me right into that," he says. 

She gets herself in position, ass in the air. He grabs her hips and holds tight. He teases her a little, pressing just the barest tip into her, pulling back, doing it again just a mite further. Kensi actually growls. She swears until he finally goes in deep. She comes first again, but he's right after.

They're a wet sticky mess, and the bed's no better. "I didn't just knock you up, did I?"

"That is something you should have asked sooner," she says, rolling onto her back.

"I assumed since you came here, if you had wanted to use a condom, you would have brought some. Maybe in size extra small to make me feel bad?"

She laughs. "That is very true. I'm on the pill, anyway. And we had that excruciating talk last week about how you don't have any STDs and have been recently tested and you made me tell your my results, too, so, yeah, I figured we were probably good."

He showers. He doesn't really expect her to be there when he gets out, but she is. She's balled up all the sheets and pillow cases and his comforter on the floor. She's sitting naked on the mattress, flipping through the channels. "Hey," he says.

"You said you had that show on dvd. I wanted to watch it." She smiles. "Also, can we order food?"

"Okay," he says. "okay."

He makes the bed. He puts on underwear and a t-shirt. Kensi got her go bag from her car at some point, and she's in sexy pink boyshort panties and a tanktop. They order pizza. He walks Monty. Kensi remains with Firefly. Deeks falls asleep after the first three episodes. He wakes up to Kensi sleeping next to him. He walks Monty. She wakes up to donuts and coffee. Which is good, because he was really tempted to have hers. 6 episodes later she tells him to order more pizza.

"Apparently we're spending the rest of the weekend in our underwear, not having sex, watching Firefly," he says.

"Works for me," she says. "I figure we got our exercise yesterday."

"That is absolutely true."

They finish watching the episodes. They watch the movie. She cries and punches him in the arm. "You should have warned me," she says. She wipes her eyes.

"I did," he says.

"You did not," she says.

"I said are you sure you wanna watch this? That's a warning."

She sniffles. "Okay, fix it."

"What? I'm not the writer or producer or whatever," he says. She looks very young with her hair down and her cheeks red from scrubbing at her eyes, pretending she wasn't crying.

"Let's watch something else. Right now. You have other dvds?" She gets off the bed and walks toward his bookcase.

"Uh, yes. I have dvds. I don't have any other sci fi series. I didn't like Farscape enough for all the dvds and the Star Treks are too much work. Stargate weirds me out."

She is browsing. She says, "Smallville?"

"You know, Superman? It's a little ridiculous but I like it."

"Does anyone die?"

"Not in the first season," he says. "Come on, we can skip some of the episodes and be done by Sunday evening."

She brings him the dvd set. "Sorry I kinda took over your weekend."

"Yeah, I really minded," he says. "It's cool. It's partner bonding."

"Yeah," she says.

She falls asleep during the pilot. When they're both awake in the morning, they watch it again. They still don't have sex. She leaves after their third order of pizza.

"How was your long weekend?" Sam manages to make it sound like Marty was just vacationing. It's already a familiar feeling for a Monday morning, being reminded Sam will never ever forgive him for being alive and replacing Kensi's last partner.

"It was fantastic," he says. Kensi walks in then and looks at him, a little worry in the crease between her eyes. "I ate a lot of pizza, watched a lot of television, didn't think too hard. It was like being back in college."

Kensi looks relieved. She says, "Did you really graduate?"

"I really did," he says. "Did so well, they let me into law school."

"I can't believe you went to college in Iowa," she says.

"Did you?" Sam leans forward. "Major in animal husbandry?"

"No," he says. "But I should have." He smiles at Kensi. She smiles back.

He is definitely very happy being alive at this point. Maybe at some point, he will convince Kensi to carpe diem again. All lovely weekend long. And maybe even more.


End file.
